


Ice Rinks and Matryoshka

by randomwriter57



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Ice Skating, M/M, Moscow, christmas markets, happy birthday yuuri!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomwriter57/pseuds/randomwriter57
Summary: This is not the ice rink.
(Or, Victor takes Yuuri out for his birthday.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Have you seen [the new official artwork](https://twitter.com/minahomine/status/802141966288887808) because it's beautiful and inspired this fic.
> 
> Also, Happy Birthday Yuuri!!

This is not the ice rink.

When Yuuri opens the taxi door to an unfamiliar street, this is the first thing he notices. Thinking back, he should have noticed sooner. After all, it took longer for them to reach this street than it usually takes for them to get to the ice rink. But this is Moscow, and Yuuri isn’t used to his surroundings yet.

(Not to mention that he was paying no attention to the world outside the windows on the way here. It’s dark outside, and there were much more interesting things to see inside the taxi than outside.)

What Yuuri notices second is that this is their destination for the evening. Victor paying and sending off the taxi driver is proof enough of that.

His realisations leave him conflicted. As much as he likes the idea of having a night off training, he still has no idea what Victor has planned for tonight. The bag containing his skates weighs heavily on his shoulder. All he hopes is that they won’t be standing outside for much longer. He zips his jacket up as far as it can go, regretting his decision not to bring a scarf.

Luckily, the first place Victor leads him to is a Starbucks. The inside is balmy compared to the frigid chill of the outdoors. Despite the time and it being the middle of the week, the cafe is relatively busy. As they’re waiting, Yuuri lets his eyes wander over the merchandise displayed against the wall. There’s a variety of cups and mugs for sale, but what catches Yuuri’s eye is a set of tumblers. Each one has a different design of a matryoshka as well as name of either a Russian city or ‘Russia’ written on the front. He leans forward to take a closer look.

“What are you looking at, Yuuri?” Victor says, leaning in beside him to see for himself.

“These tumblers,” Yuuri says, pointing to them. “They’re really nice.”

“They are, aren’t they?” Victor says, picking one up for a closer look. “Which one do you like best?”

After a moment of consideration, Yuuri points to the red design.

Victor picks up the medium-sized red tumbler as well as a medium blue one reading ‘Saint Petersburg’. Then he moves forward in the queue without another word.

 

* * *

 

 

Five minutes later, they cradle their chosen drinks, served in the matryoshka tumblers. Yuuri can’t help but smile looking at the design on his chosen tumbler. Not only does he now have a hot drink to help against the cold, but along with it he has a piece of Russia to take home with him.

Still, he has no idea why they’re here. They're halfway down the street when Yuuri finally asks where they’re going.

“You’ll see in a minute, Yuuri!” Victor says with a smile. “I want it to be a surprise!”

And a minute or so later, the surprise becomes clear. They pass under an arch and head into a giant pedestrianised area, filled to the brim with people. The buildings surrounding the square are gorgeous, standing tall, covered with intricate designs. One in particular stands out, covered in glowing Christmas lights. Other Christmas decorations take up much of the area, from tall fir trees to twinkling lights. It’s one of the most stunning things Yuuri has ever seen.

“Welcome to Red Square, Yuuri!” Victor says, throwing out an arm to present the area to him. “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing,” Yuuri breathes, trying to drink in as much of his surroundings as possible. “But why are we here?”

“I wanted to show you a piece of Moscow during the most wonderful time of the year. You haven’t seen many Christmas celebrations before, have you?”

“Not particularly,” Yuuri says. He hasn’t been to any Christmas events in cities before, even when he was in other countries for previous skating seasons. Television broadcasts, he supposes, don't count.

“Well, I’m going to make your first experience of it magical,” Victor says with a wink. Before Yuuri can begin to wonder if there are any hidden meanings behind his words, Victor wraps an arm around his waist and begins to guide him through the crowd.

Their first stop is the building covered in lights. Even under the glow of electricity, it still has an antique exterior, and the interior even more so. It stands tall, with glass ceilings and engraved walls. Every storefront is classy and refined. Everything here, Yuuri notices, is far beyond his budget for buying souvenirs.

“This is the GUM, one of Moscow’s world-renowned department stores,” Victor explains.

They head towards a designer clothes store. Victor gazes into the window with the air of someone looking to buy something. When he moves inside of the shop, Yuuri catches a glimpse of the price tag and gawks. A moment later, he remembers that Victor regularly uses (on both himself and on Yuuri) a lip balm which costs over 6000 yen, and his shock fades.

He joins Victor inside the store to find him browsing through the clothes. He can’t being himself even to look at the items in the store, knowing what the price tags will look like, so he follows Victor through the store.

“Do you see anything you like?” Victor asks him at one point. It’s a genuine question, no strings attached.

“N-no!” Yuuri says in reflex, then wonders if his reply was too abrupt. “I mean… The items here are…”

It takes Victor a moment to realise what Yuuri is trying to say. When he does realise it, he laughs.

“I don’t mind buying anything for you, Yuuri.”

“I don’t need anything added to the debt I already owe you for coaching me, thanks.”

Finally, they leave the department store without buying anything. More than anything, Victor seems amused at the idea that Yuuri didn’t want him to buy him something.

The cold air bites at his neck. Yuuri hunches his shoulders and takes a sip of his hot drink, still regretting his decision not to bring a scarf.

“Yuuri, are you cold?” Victor asks.

“A little,” Yuuri admits, then holds up his free hand. “I’m fine, though, don’t worry.”

“Hold on - hold my drink for me, please.”

“Victor, you don’t have to-”

Without giving Yuuri a chance to protest, Victor unwraps the deep blue scarf from around his neck. Then, with a gentle touch, he wraps it around Yuuri, making sure it’s secure. Yuuri shivers as the warmth envelopes his throat, then relaxes into it.

“Is that better?” Victor asks, moving back to look into his eyes.

Yuuri nods, handing Victor’s drink back to him. “Thank you.”

Victor simply smiles and returns his hand to its place on Yuuri’s waist. With his other hand, he takes a sip from his drink. Yuuri tries not to trace the movement of his now-exposed neck with his eyes. Failing that, he returns his focus to his own drink, cheeks flushed.

“Next,” Victor says when he finishes drinking, “let’s go to the Christmas Market!”

The Christmas Market turns out to be much closer to Yuuri’s budget. Rows of wooden stalls flood the area, filled with bright colours and amazing smells. As tempted as he is by all the food, though, Yuuri tries to focus his attention on the stalls selling souvenirs.

From ceramics to wooden toys to winter wear, there is a huge variety of items to choose from. It takes him a while to decide on which items in particular to buy for his family and friends as gifts, but Victor doesn’t complain once. Rather, he is a huge help in interpreting between Yuuri and the stall owners, many of whom only speak Russian.

By the time they reach the matryoshka stand, Yuuri feels self-conscious about the fact that he’s the only one buying anything. Then again, Victor lives in Russia. This kind of merchandise is familiar to him.

But the matryoshka stand is something else. The shelves are filled to the brim with smiling faces of painted women, hiding a dozen smaller versions of themselves inside. A couple of sets are displayed in full, but for the most part, only the outermost shell is displayed.

One set of dolls in particular catches Yuuri’s eye. He isn’t sure whether it’s the blue eyes or the silver hair of the doll which draws him to it, or the ornate pattern of the doll’s painted clothes. For some reason, it reminds him of Victor.

“That one’s nice,” Victor says, looking over his shoulder at the doll.

“It is,” Yuuri replies. As much as he’d like to buy it, though, he doesn’t have much money left to spend on himself if he wants to buy souvenirs.

Victor speaks again, though this time it’s in Russian. Yuuri is about to ask him to repeat it in English when he realises Victor is speaking not to him, but to the stall owner. The two of them carry a conversation, the number of words of which Yuuri understands totalling a grand zero. Before Yuuri can say anything, Victor hands over some money, and the stall owner wraps up the blue-eyed matryoshka and hands it to him.

“For you,” Victor says, holding the packaged doll towards him. “Happy birthday, Yuuri.”

Yuuri feels his eyes widen. “How did you…?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t know it’s your birthday?” Victor asks. “What kind of boyfriend do you take me for?”

A warmth spreads in his chest, and Yuuri takes the proffered gift, letting his fingers linger against Victor’s. “Thank you, Victor.”

“I would buy the world for you, Yuuri,” Victor says, his words almost masked by the cheerful crowd around them. “If you didn’t already have the whole world wrapped around your finger, that is.”

He laughs. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“You’re the Grand Prix Finalist everyone has their eyes on, Yuuri. Whatever you show people, they will listen.” Victor intertwines his fingers with Yuuri’s. “You deserve to be seen and heard.”

“Victor…”

“Oh, don’t think tonight is over yet,” Victor says, breaking the moment. “I still have one last surprise for you.”

He begins to lead Yuuri away from the Christmas Market. Yuuri jostles his belongings in his arms so he can keep holding Victor’s hand as they walk side-by-side towards whatever Victor has planned.

Eventually he notices the structure taking up the majority of Red Square. Victor telling him earlier to bring his ice skates finally makes sense. The public skating rink takes up a generous portion of the square and is already quite busy, filled with people of all ages and skill levels circling around the ice.

When he turns to face Victor, he sees the older man looking at him with a softened expression.

“Skate with me, Yuuri?”

“Of course I will,” Yuuri says, squeezing Victor’s hand.

They spend while waiting in a queue (made less boring by idle conversation and the warmth of Victor’s hand in his own). Then, after Victor pays for them to skate, they head into the waiting area. Dozens of children and adults exchange their shoes for rented skates, unpractised fingers tying the laces as tight as they can. Yuuri smiles upon seeing one such child enthusing with his friends, their faces alight with excitement.

Since the benches are all taken, they find an empty patch of wall to lean against as they change into their skates. Victor insists on putting Yuuri’s skates on for him, like he did before his short programme only days ago. Yuuri returns the favour for Victor, silently marvelling at being able to touch the famous gold-bladed skates.

They slip protector blocks over the blades, mostly out of habit, then take their shoes and bags to the counter for storage. The woman behind the counter narrows her eyes, as though trying to pinpoint where she’s seen them before, but they don’t give her time to figure it out. Instead they head away from the counter once they're done so they can wait in a more quiet spot for their turn on the ice.

After a while, their session arrives. A few people heading off the ice stare at them when they pass by, as do a few other people entering at the same time as them. Yuuri isn’t sure whether it’s because they recognise them or because they’re two men holding hands. In any case, he manages to ignore the staring in favour of focusing on the ice beneath his skates and the man beside him.

Hand-in-hand, Yuuri and Victor follow the flow of the crowd around the rink, skating at a more leisurely pace than they have in a while. Not having to rush around the rink, mind filled with footwork and jumps and spins, is relaxing. Without the pressure of an audience judging them, the two skaters can enjoy being on the ice together.

On their second lap of the rink, Victor turns to skate backwards, pulling Yuuri by the hands. Yuuri lets him, smiling as they move closer to the centre of the rink, away from the mass of people sticking to the barriers as though they’re lifelines. Victor pulls him close, holding him around the waist, and skates them around in circles. Somehow, it makes them giddy with laughter, grinning without a care for anyone watching them.

When they finally slow, Yuuri looks up at Victor’s expression, the love and admiration reflected in his softened eyes, and can’t help but to lean upwards for a kiss. Victor meets him halfway, and they let their smiles melt into loving contact, lips connected and sharing warmth. Yuuri loops his arms around Victor’s shoulders, Victor holding his waist, and they press together, melting.

Parting, they find each other with pink cheeks and breathless grins, eyes filled with a love strong enough to show not just to Russia, but to the whole world.

Then they return to skating, rejoining the main flow of skaters, their arms around each other’s waists.

It’s only at the end of the hour when the children from earlier approach them. One of them speaks to them in Russian.

Yuuri is bad enough with speaking to fans when there isn’t a language barrier. He leaves it to Victor, trusting he’ll know what to say. Since Yuuri can’t understand his words, he tries to find meaning in how his gloved fingers clutch his phone and how he bites his lip when he finishes speaking.

“He wants to take a picture with us,” Victor explains in English. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Yuuri says, sending a smile to the young boy.

The boy beams when Victor agrees, and the two skaters kneel to take a photo with him and his friends.

Of course, having a photo taken tends to attract attention. Other people begin to notice that they’re in the presence of two figure skaters and start whispering between themselves. Luckily, since their hour is over, they manage to leave the rink without having to encounter any of these people, most of whom are likely Victor’s fans.

Once they leave the rink, their belongings returned and the cold air soothing them from their exercise, Yuuri stifles a yawn behind his hand. It doesn’t stop Victor from noticing, of course, and he guides Yuuri back out of the square, towards the street from which they can hail a taxi.

They are silent when they get into the taxi, too tired for conversation. Instead, they sit side-by-side, Yuuri’s head on Victor’s shoulder. Victor presses a chaste kiss to the top of his head, weaving his fingers together with Yuuri’s in their laps. Their breathing synchronises at a slow, steady pace.

In the hotel, Yuuri does not protest as Victor follows him into his room instead of leaving for his own. Instead, he prepares for bed as usual and settles under the covers alongside Victor, immediately enveloped in warmth. He stretches a cold arm from under the blanket to turn off the light and remove his glasses, then moves closer to Victor.

“Thank you,” he whispers, trying to find Victor’s eyes in the darkness. “Tonight was amazing.”

“I’m glad,” Victor replies. His voice is low and husky, sending a shiver down his spine. “Happy birthday, Yuuri.”

Lazily, Yuuri places a kiss on Victor’s lips, then nuzzles into his chest, closing his eyes. Until the moment he drifts to sleep, he feels his smile remain on his lips, thoughts filled with ice rinks and matryoshka.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me at [randomactuallywrites-57](http://randomactuallywrites-57.tumblr.com) on tumblr | [@randomwriter57](http://twitter.com/randomwriter57) on twitter!
> 
> (I do most of my yelling on twitter ngl.)


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